


do you believe in magic

by pinkish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, M/M, MTG tournament, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:37:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkish/pseuds/pinkish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's about to win a Magic: The Gathering tournament, but he's finding it really freaking difficult to concentrate when the guy sitting across the table from him is, as far as Dean can tell, too sexy to be allowed to play magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	do you believe in magic

**Author's Note:**

> phone typing so no beta, no editing, no italics. archiving from tumblr :)

This was it: Dean had made it to the end and was so close to getting the prize money. Yeah, he’d spent tons of money over the years, but winning the cash would let him surprise Sammy with a graduation present: a trip to the Grand Canyon.  
He’d made it past the guy who kept fucking countering everything he had with instant after instant until finally he was able to pull all his heavy hitters back from his graveyard. He got past Charlie, apologising all the way as she laughed at him for feeling bad.  
“You’ve got the better deck, Dean. AND the better reason to win. I just want to beat the jerks who keep asking me who I slept with to qualify. I don’t need to beat you to be better than them.”  
He also beat the asshole who kept making disapproving noises every time Dean played a spell. The guy muttered under his breath about how Dean’s black/white deck was so obviously made by a n00b (somehow pronouncing the zeroes) who just liked angels and demons. Dean felt quite a bit of unsportsmanlike pride when he demolished the dick with a massive hit from his Avenging Angel.  
So he was feeling pretty damned ready to conquer his last opponent.  
His last, disgustingly, horrifyingly, how-dare-he-be-that sexy opponent.  
Fuuck.  
Also YES! Because fuck YEAH that guy was hot. But dammit, Dean did NOT need a distraction right now.  
He needed to be figuring out the guy’s strategy, not looking into his eyes.  
His glorious, heart-melty eyes.  
He definitely shouldn’t be imagining how those lips would feel pressed against his jaw. (But, shiiiit, they’d feel so good)  
He wrenched his mind back to the game, reminding himself that Sammy had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon and that he could fantasize about pouty lips and crystal blue eyes later.  
And probably for a while after that, too.  
He tried focusing on the cards, but then he just found himself looking at slender fingers.  
He tried only looking at his own hand but then he was hyper focused on sound and kept hearing little hitches of breath as the guy reacted to Dean’s creatures or when he drew a card. If Dean strained to listen, he could hear the cadence of his breaths and that’s when Dean realised it was going to take a miracle to win.  
They were still neck and neck, but nothing short of, like, an earthquake was going to distract Dean from imagining how his skin would feel pressed up against his opponent.  
Then it happened. The guy huffed a loud sigh. Placed his cards face down in front of him and whispered, rough and desperate, across the table.  
“If I forfeit, will you stop staring at me like you want to eat me alive?”  
“What? Fuck, man, sorry. I didn’t mean—” Dean turned crimson as he spluttered his apology. “I was being creepy. I’m sorry. Let’s just finish the game.”  
Dean lowered his eyes and cringed at his supreme awkwardness, so he didn’t notice the grin spreading across the guy’s face.  
“You misunderstand me. If we end this game NOW, will you stop looking like you want to fuck me and do something about it?”  
Dean gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish. He couldn’t speak; only nodded.  
“Good. If you keep playing the way you are, you’ll finish me in three. Don’t let me down…” Dean’s opponent trailed off, clearly waiting for Dean to supply his name.  
“Dean,” he replied, once he got control of his vocal cords.  
This earned him a grin he did notice.   
“Dean. Don’t let me down, Dean, and you won’t regret it.”  
“You got it…”  
“Cas.”  
“You got it, Cas.”  
Dean felt his skin and blood and heart rate and breath return to normal as he focussed again on his game.  
Or, at least, as normal as it could with Cas’s foot pressing against his under the table


End file.
